


Lost and found

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Backstory, Fantastic Racism, Found Family, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: A story about how a young Stefan finds the Branded village.





	Lost and found

**Author's Note:**

> I've written this for my friend's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNA!  
> For the people who follow my stuff, she's the one who drew Berkut and Rinea in ballet clothes, which gave me the inspiration to write that ballet!AU one shot.
> 
> Disclaimer: I’ll just say it now so it doesn’t come up in the comments.  
> Yes, I use hyphens for dialogues and quotation marks for thoughts. Why? Because this is how we do in Italy, the country I’m from (actually there’s more freedom in Italy and more than one method to use this kind of punctuation but whatever).  
> This is the method I’ve learned and the one I’m used to, and I don’t think I’ll even change it.  
> Please, I beg you, stop pointing it out, it’s starting to get really annoying, especially when that’s the only thing people comment about.

Stefan touches the mark on his forehead.

He lowers his fingers then – with movements that are almost mechanical – and he looks at them. They’re red with blood.

 

Well, that kid really has a future as a sharp shooter, that’s for sure.

There’s an adult nearby that offers to inspect his wound but Stefan runs as fast as he can. That would’ve been even worse that the rock the kid has thrown at him.

 

He runs back to his house, where his parents are waiting for him.

He opens the door and he hurries inside. His head is hurting so much.

 

He sees them. They seem to be pretty busy, but as soon as they notice him they hurry by his side.

They’re both Beorcs. They haven’t wronged the Goddess’ laws.

Then why does he have that damned mark?

 

The preparations are quick. By this point they all know the drill.

Stefan assures them that nobody has seen his mark, that it was just a kid that was being mean, but they say that it’s better not to take any risks.

He wants to argue but he knows it’s useless. They are right, after all.

 

Still, he was coming to like this town. He wouldn’t have minded to stay just a little longer.

 

This has been his life since he can remember.

His parents have told him immediately the dangers of being Branded, even though Stefan can’t understand why this is happening to him.

Who made these dumb laws anyways?

 

It’s been hard not to show his mark, not when it’s on his forehead.

He had to let his hair grow long so that he could hide it, but sometimes not even that is enough.

There are some people that believe that he’s been touched by spirits, but most know right away what he is.

Needless to say, he’s not welcome anymore.

 

 

He looks around. Nobody’s there.

Thank goodness he managed to outrun them.

They were on the road but they were attacked. Stefan had recognized a few familiar faces, but he would’ve never expected the townsfolk to go after them even after they had left. They must really hate what he is.

 

In the commotion he got separated from his parents and he doesn’t know what to do.

Did they manage to escape as well? Did they get captured? What are they going to do to them?

 

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of loud shouts and steps that are getting closer.

He looks around. Behind him there’s the desert, in front of him, death.

He turns and he runs away.

Does he have any other choice?

 

 

The desert isn’t hospitable at all.

Stefan has no idea how much deep into it he is, he has no idea where he is.

He’s hungry, he’s thirsty. His body hurts from the efforts to keep pushing through.

 

Suddenly there’s a shadow looming over him. Must be a mirage, or maybe he’s dying.

He turns and he sees a cloaked figured staring down at him. He can’t make out any details.

 

The stranger stretches a hand towards him. Their skin is dark but Stefan can clearly see and intricate red motive that starts from the fingers and ends on the wrist.

He understands now. He’s not alone.

 

He takes the stranger’s hand and he gets pulled up gently.

\- Poor thing -, the stranger says. It’s a woman’s voice.

\- Who… -, Stefan tries to say, but his throat is sore and his voice almost non-existent.

\- I’ll explain to you soon -, the woman replies, gently inviting him to follow her.

\- There are others like us in this desert, come -.

 

Us.

That’s not a word Stefan’s used to.

Sure, there was he and his parents, but they didn’t have the mark. They haven’t been cursed.

Despite him not knowing these “people like him”, a warm feeling starts to make his way through his chest at the sole notion that they exist.

 

Despite what his parents told him – he should never follow a stranger – Stefan takes her hand and he lets her guide him.

 

 

There’s a village in the desert.

So many children come out from somewhere that Stefan doesn’t notice – he’s too tired, barely keeping himself awake – to greet and hug the stranger that has helped him. She must be very loved and Stefan can guess why: she’s kind, so kind that she’s willing to help someone like him, a boy lost in the desert.

 

He feels eyes on him but for the first time in his life he’s not afraid of that.

They’re not hateful gazes, but curious.

Stefan looks around and he can see that all these people have, if not the same, similar marks as him.

 

He’s not alone.

 

 

He opens his eyes. He hadn’t realised he had fallen unconscious.

He tries to get up but a gentle hand stops him. He looks up and it’s the same lady from before, the one who helped him.

\- It’s fine -, she says, and something in her voice makes Stefan immediately feel better, safe.

He tries to speak but his throat is sore. She seems to understand and he lends him a glass of water.

\- Drink -, she says, with a voice so kind, so gentle.

 

It feels like he hasn’t drank in ages. He feels immediately refreshed.

Maybe he’s acting too much like a savage but he’s too tired to care.

 

Now that he’s more conscious, he can get a good look at the woman who saved him.

She looks like she’s barely in her thirties. Her hair is black, tied at the back of her head. Her eyes are red but despite this they don’t scare him; they’re gentle, but also heavy, as if the weight of the world is on this woman’s shoulders.

 

Her name his Labitha. Her mother is a Beorc and her father a Goldoan.

She’s been living in this village as long as she remembers and she travels in search of people like her to bring to safety.

 

Apparently they are called Branded; Stefan didn’t know that. Well, it makes sense, given their brand and all. Yes, it’s fitting.

 

He asks her why they are persecuted and she shakes her head. Despite her smile her eyes are sad.

\- I don’t know -, she says, - But this just means that we have to take care of each other, yes? -.

 

 

He meets the others. There are more people than he would’ve imagined.

He can’t believe that they’re all like him.

For once, he feels at home.

 

He learns their names, well most of them, and they are all so friendly that it feels unreal.

This isn’t something he’s used to.

Oh no, this must be a dream. There’s no way something so good would happen to him.

Oh well, if it is, he’ll deal with it when he wakes up. For now he just wants to keep dreaming.

 

A few kids his age approach him and Stefan’s first instinct is to run away, but why should he? They just want to get to know him, to ask him to play with them.

Is this what the other kids, the ones he always had to observe from a distance, knowing that if they found out his secret he would force his entire family to move away, felt? This sense of friendship, of belonging together… he could get used to this.

 

 

They all have dinner together. It’s a moment of joy, of conviviality. Stefan has never lived anything like this.

He’s never laughed so much in his life and he has to say that he likes it there, but he’s starting to ask himself if his staying will be only temporary or not.

He’s new and he doesn’t know how to do work. Will they really want someone like that here?

 

He searches for Labitha.

He finds her easily. Her presence is very vast, regal even, and it’s obvious that she inspires reverence out of everyone in the village.

 

He tugs her sleeve to get her attention and he asks:

\- Where will I go? -.

She pets his hair.

\- You’ll stay with me, if that’s what you want, or we can find you someone that can take care of you -, she replies, but Stefan shakes his head.

\- I want to stay with you -.

Labitha smiles.

\- Then you’re welcome to stay -.

 

 

The more time passes the more it’s obvious that nobody wants Stefan to leave the village, that they want him to stay with them.

Where else could he go anyways? Sure, Laguz don’t hurt them like Beorcs do, but they don’t even acknowledge their existence, which is quite unfair in Stefan’s opinion. After all isn’t it also their fault if they exist?

 

Sometimes he feels guilty because he’s supposed to miss his parents, right? And yet he feels nothing.

He loves them dearly but he also can’t help but to think that this has been the best thing to happen to all of them: this way they’ll finally be able to live the normal life they deserve to live, and he can be happy too with his people.

 

He’s staying with Labitha, helping her keeping the house clean. It wouldn’t feel right to just be there without doing anything to help.

In their down times he braids her hair. This is something he learned from his mother and he has fun braiding her hair in different ways, following his fantasy, and she’s more than happy to let him do it.

He’s noticed that her black hair have started to grey at the base and he wonders how old she actually is; he never dares to ask though, as age for people like them is something very private, as he came to understand.

 

She teaches him how to use a sword.

\- My parents never gave me one -, Stefan tells her when she makes this proposition to him, - They said I was still too young for that -.

\- For other children that may be true -, Labitha says, - But we’re different. The sooner you learn to defend yourself, the better -.

 

She’s a hard teacher but the gentle tone of her voice never leaves her, even as she makes Stefan fall on the ground again and again and again.

It’s a challenge but Stefan feels something, a sparkle of excitement, every time he draws his blade at her.

He wants to impress her. He wants to become better.

 

He plays with the other children – his friends – too.

One thing that Stefan has noticed, is that here there aren’t groups. One would expect to find the descendant of the Bird Tribe separated from the Beast Tribe and so on, but this isn’t the case.

They’re all united in their shared fate, there would be no point in dividing themselves.

 

He has memorized all their names.

He always helps the elderly when he has the occasion, gaining many smiles and soft praises.

He doesn’t feel like he’s a weight.

He feels like he belongs.

 

 

\- Take me with you -.

 

He’s caught Labitha as she was preparing to leave again and this time he’s determined to go with her.

\- It’s not safe -, she reminds him, still packing the few things she’ll bring with her.

\- I know, but I want to help -.

 

Labitha turns around to face him. Even as time went on her body hasn’t gotten much older.

She can see the determination in his eyes, and if she’s learned something about him, is that once he sets his mind on something there’s very little that can make him change idea.

She sighs. She didn’t want this for him – it’s too dangerous – but it’s also true that there’s safety in numbers, even if it will be just the two of them, and besides she remembers when she first set foot outside the village that she helped found; they all thought she was crazy, that there was no way she was going to come back, and despite that all she could feel was excitement for that new adventure.

 

Eh. Stefan has picked more from her that she would admit.

 

\- All right, pack your stuff -, she says and Stefan moves in a flash.

He doesn’t have much – he doesn’t need much – so he just picks a change of clothes and his sword. It was a gift from the whole village for his most recent birthday. He’s been practising with it every day and it soon became like an extension of his arm.

The Mani Katti, they call it. It’s a legendary blade. Stefan wants to be worthy of brandishing it and he’s decided he’ll be only once he’ll be able to defeat Labitha.

 

It feels weird traveling again, after so much time spent inside the village.

This time though Stefan manages to hold on way better than he did the first time he ventured in the desert.

His body is stronger and his mind isn’t clouded by the exhaustion. He feels eager to explore.

 

Labitha smiles, amused at his enthusiasm.

She teaches him how to move in the desert, what he has to do in order not to get lost.

Stefan learns to understand it, to move alongside it. Once he gets to know it better, the desert doesn’t seem so impervious anymore.

He understands why they’ve decided to hide here. To them the desert is a warm home, but to potential intruders it’s a mortal trap.

 

 

It’s an unfruitful voyage, this one, but Stefan has learned something so he doesn’t completely dismiss it.

He looks at Labitha as they get back to the village and he notices her sad expression.

 

\- What is it? -, Stefan asks.

Labitha looks at him and she shakes her head, forcing a smile on her face.

She then stops on her tracks and she looks behind her, with a contemplative look.

\- Sometimes I wonder… -, she begins, - … How many are we abandoning? -.

\- What do you mean? -, Stefan asks.

\- Do you ever imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t find you? -, Labitha replies.

Stefan swallows. Yes, he thinks about it more than he would like.

\- … I would’ve died -, he mutters.

 

Labitha turns to him.

\- If I hadn’t decided to go for a stroll that day, we would’ve never found you -, she then sighs, - And who knows how many are suffering while we’re here, doing nothing -.

 

She’s right, Stefan can’t deny it, however…

He knows what happens to people like them. It would be hard to reach out to all of them. And what if by doing this Beorcs find out about the village? What if they tear it down?

Everybody he knows will be dead or they’ll be forced to flee in search of another home.

 

Labitha seems to sense his internal struggle and she pats on his shoulder.

\- Don’t mind what this old woman has to say -.

\- You’re not old -, Stefan says, smiling, and this makes Labitha laugh.

\- I’m glad someone thinks that -, she comments, - I know it doesn’t seem that way, but even if my body seems young, I’m not -.

She turns to Stefan.

\- You know this will happen to you too, right? -.

Stefan nods. Yes, he’s noticed it already; this is what prompted his parents to constantly change locations: children grow quickly, and if too much time passed without him changing, people would start to ask questions.

 

 

They stay there for a moment, quietly contemplating the desert, then Labitha turns around and she mutters:

\- C’mon, Stefan, let’s go home -.

 

_Home_

It’s so weird that he got used to this word, home.

When he was just a mere kid, home meant a place where he and his parents would stay for a while before people would notice what he is and attack him, prompting them to leave that place immediately.

Who would’ve thought that it actually means something else?

 

And now, he even has a family. How lucky is he?

He was about to die and he found people that care about him, people that are like him.

... He’s so proud to be part of this.

 

However, as they’re getting back, Labitha’s words still keep repeating in his mind.

_How many are we abandoning?_

How many children are in peril, just like he was once? How many are dying every day?

They can’t help everybody – that would be impossible – but to stay put when others like them are suffering… this isn’t right.

If it wasn’t for Labitha he’d be dead.

 

He wants to do something, but what can he do?

He’s not strong, he’s not charismatic. Even someone like Labitha is forced to wander alone because the others believe it’s too risky to get involved.

 

Maybe with time they could change things, who knows. Maybe something will happen that will make the whole village agree with them.

For now he’s made a decision: he’ll start to travel as well, maybe even alone, so that between him and Labitha they’ll be able to cover more ground.

He won’t get too far and in places that are too crowded – that would be too risky – but he’ll be around, ready to help any Branded he’ll find.

He will take them to the village, make them feel at home. After all, even if they think they should be recluse, the village has never refused anybody that is Branded. They all share the same destiny, after all.

 

He wonders if things will change. He wonders if one day they’ll be seen as equal and not as monsters to hunt.

Is their sin of being born so big that it is unforgivable?

 

Maybe it’s his young spirit to talk, but he wants to hope that it will get better for them.

For now, however, he’ll have to focus on what’s important: to keep their brothers and sisters safe.

The Goddess may hate them, Beorcs and Laguz may hate them but they’ll keep prospering and to protect each other.

This is what family does.


End file.
